The Second Day
by Katrover Swatroad
Summary: What if DiZ had bothered to create a beach? What if Roxas and his friends had gone the beach on the second day ... ?


On a lark, the Twilight Town gang had decided to take the train to a new beach. When they arrived, he couldn't believe it.

The light yellow stretch of sand, the dark blue sheets of the sea, the little round island joined by the wooden bridge, the quiet pool and waterfall to the side of the cabin, even the seagull's nest on top of one palm tree ... it was all there. Everything was in place, as though some being from above had plucked them out his mind and set them before him. Everything from his dream had been transported into real life. Destiny Islands existed in real life. Destiny Islands lay in all its glory before him. Somewhat. It was a beach instead of an island, but identical otherwise; some being from above took Sora's island, split it down the middle, attached it to a continental shoreline, and remodeled it into the beach before them now.

"I can't believe it ... " breathed Roxas.

"I can't believe it either!" laughed Pence next to him. "We finally made it to the beach!"

"I know! Isn't this great? Was my idea great or what?" bragged Hayner. The wiry-haired boy dashed forth to meet the waves with his feet. "C'om you guys! Let's make the most of today!" As if on cue, Pence ran forth to join him. Beach umbrellas, towels, and folding seats remained behind, discarded and forgotten. Setting up their spot could wait; feeling ocean water with their feet was much more urgent.

"It's so beautiful!" wondered Olette as she took in the teal and blue - green shades of the ocean, tinted by the orange of the horizon - bound sun. Unlike Pence, she took her time walking to the water. "Don't you think so, Roxas?"

"I know," breathed Roxas. He couldn't stop staring at the beach. "It's just as I remembered it. The cabin, the pool, the bridge to the island, the papou tree ... it's all there."

"Papou?"

Roxas pointed to the familiar curved, low - hanging tree growing on the small island beyond. "There. You see the star - shaped fruit? Legend has it that if two people share one, their destinies become intertwined." So said Riku to Sora in his dreams. Maybe the silver - haired boy made it up on the spot.

"Papou?" Olette frowned. "I never saw any such trees in my life."

"It only grows here, I guess."

Olette turned intrigued grass-green eyes to him. "You said its just as you remembered it. So ... you've been here before?"

"No. I mean, yes? No, definiately no. Yeah?" Roxas shrugged. The answer was no; the answer was also yes. Not once did Roxas remember going to this beach. But he went often in his dreams. All the time, in fact. As Sora, though. "I'm not sure. Everything just seems so ... familiar, but ... it's hard to explain."

"Maybe you came here as a little kid," hypothesized the girl. "You know ... deja vu."

"Yeah ... that must be it. Deja vu," agreed Roxas. As the girl joined her two friends in the water, Roxas remained behind to set up the seats and umbrellas, taking in the sights all the while. Yes. That must be it. Deja vu. Once, he went to this beach, then he forgot. Once, he was Sora and then he became Roxas and forgot? Roxas suppressed a chuckle. Yeah, right. They were at a beach, who cares? Hayner was right; a trip of the beach was just what they needed to relieve end - of - summer blues.

Finally, their umbrellas and blankets were set up, and Roxas was proud. So what if he did all the work? That meant he gets first dibs on the folding chair of his choice! Roxas draped his black and white checkered towel on the sturdiest - looking chair, then helped himself to Pence's picnic's basket. He finished off a couple of cookies when a foam bad flew out of nowhere and bounced off Roxas' head. "Ow!" Surprised, he turned to see a nearby Hayner waving another foam bat.

"Hey Roxas! Struggle practice! You up for it?" challenged for wiry - haired boy. Hayner never got his answer. Instead, he got a surprise swipe to the gut. Guess who swung what?

Man ...I taught him that, Hayner thought as he recovered. He looked up to see a grinning Roxas holding a foam bat like a rapier. En grade!

They practiced for Struggle for a long while, pretending to snatch at imaginary orbs when one of them was hit. Slowly, unknowingly, their mock fight drew closer to the shore. Then it was beyond the shore, in shallow water. Feeling cool wetness around his feet and calves, and noting Hayner's intense look, Roxas got an idea. The blonde tripped Hayer with his bat, sending the other boy belly - flopping into the water. Nearby, Pence laughed his guts out.

"Puh!" sputtered Hayer as he resurfaced. He gave Roxas an odd look. "You know ... they won't have water at Struggle." Then he grinned.

"I know," said Roxas, laughing along with Pence.

Later, as the boys were toweling off, Pence dragged Roxas off in a random direction. "You gotta see this!" the chubby kid yelled as he pulled his friend along. "See?" In front of them was a vendor. Roxas looked oddly at Pence. So? Of course there was a vendor at the beach, as usual. It sold soda, ice cream, pretzels, chips, and watermelon. As usual.

"No no no!" insisted Pence as he noticed Roxas' skeptical look. He pointed at the prices. "We're eatin' watermelon today! They're only 2 munny apiece!"

The vendor's mind must have been as empty and plain as his face, for indeed it was true. The prices for all his merchandise were slashed down. Watermelon was priced at 2 munny a piece ... a whole fruit, that is. Everything else was 1 munny each. Roxas' eyes nearly fell out of their sockets.

"Excuse us!" he cried as he ran up to the blank - faced seller. "One watermelon, please! And four pretzels!"

"Oh, and a soda!" chipped in Pence.

Wordlessly, the seller exchanged their munny for goods. The seller looked ahead, blankly, as they accepted their goods. "Thank you?" inquired Pence. The seller did not reply ... or even acknowledge them. Maybe he's blind, thought Roxas. "Oh well!" said Pence as they then ran off to tell Olette and Hayner of their good fortune. They spent the rest of the day patronizing this one stand. And so Roxas spend huge chucks of his time between struggling with Hayner and patronizing the stand with Pence and Olette.

"This is great, but weird," said Olette after their third visit to the vendor.

"Oh?"

"Who cares?" munched a nearby Pence as he attacked a watermelon slice with his teeth.

"It's that stand." Olette pointed to their savior, the vendor seller. "He looks so ... plain. He acts strange, too. No personality. Selling stuff is his only point of existence. No one is like that in real life, Roxas."

"Maybe some people are just really, really plain," rationalized Roxas. But Olette had a point. The seller looked very ... generic, like a composite of every vendor operator they ever saw ... a stereotype of a vendor, really. Also, he acted solely to sell his goods. The rest of the time, he stared ahead, blankly. Like an NPC in a computer game, Roxas realized. Olette was right; no one is like that in real life.

"Maybe he's autistic," thought Pence out loud.

"Pence!"

"Sorry ... "

But the prices were low, probably in a desperate attempt to lure what few customers there were. There were few people on the beach that day. It was Tuesday, after all; people usually hit the beaches on Saturday or Sunday. The beach was a wide open expanse of sand, just for them ... and a small family and two older guys in the distance. This made Roxas even happier. The beach was their personal play island! Just like in his dreams, where the play island was the domain of Sora and his friends ... before it got destroyed.

Destiny Islands was destroyed, Roxas suddenly realized. Then, this beach was a memorial to the lost island. That was why this place was not a perfect replica of the real Destiny Islands. Was it built out of someone's (imperfect) memories? Sora's, perhaps? Morbid thoughts went nowhere, so Roxas forced such ponderings out of his head as he trudged back to the vendor for more pretzels.

"Built a castle with me!" cried a nearby voice as Roxas strolled across wet sand, later on. Roxas turned and saw a young boy, five or six, with a trowel and a bucket. The kid must be from the small family, Roxas surmised. He nodded and went towards the child. Struggling with Hayner was starting to get monotonous.

"Hey! A sandcastle!" cheered Olette. "Mind if a join?" But the little kid shook his head. Six years olds are stubborn like that.

"Okay, fine," mock - pouted the dark - haired girl. She sat down some distance from them. "I'll build one of my own."

"Let's make it a contest!" shouted the little kid. "The better castle builder wins!"

"Win what?" asked Roxas. The little kid shrugged. The race was on! And something strange was going on, for young child turned out to be a master architect of sand. Maybe he grew up in a family of professional sandcastle sculptors, or something. In the end, Roxas could only stare, slack - jawed, as the little kid did all the work. As did Olette. A miniature of a majestic castle formed in front of them, decked with minarets and sturdy walls ...

Suddenly, Roxas got a headache.

_Castle ... Oblivion? _

_To lose and claim anew, or to claim anew only to lose..._

_When your sleeping memories awaken, you may no longer be you._

"Uh - oh!" piped the kid. "What's wrong?"

"I got a headache," admitted Roxas. "I ... I need to lie down for a while." Without a word he got up and left the kid and Olette. He went to his folding chair and rested there for a while. After a while he felt better. Why did the castle seem so familiar to him? He never saw such as castle before, did he? No memories. Never mind. It must have been from too much soda. Yes, that must have been it.

"That was strange," said a nearby Hayner.

"What?"

"That kid you were playing with. No one can build sandcastles like that, not unless he's a pro."

"Maybe he is."

"At six years old?"

"Maybe he grew up in a family of sandcastle building pros."

"Maybe. You up for more Struggle practice?"

"You bet!" And so Roxas mock - battled with Hayner with foam bats some more, in preparation for Thursday's Struggle.

The day wore on, but they couldn't tell from the sun, as it forever hung low in perpetual twilight, just like in town (So ... what did Hayner mean by "blue skies?" thought Roxas). Soon, it was early evening. Roxas wondered what a night sky would look like. Aside from fictional depictions and his dreams about Sora, he never saw one. Nearby, Pence took pictures of Roxas struggling with Hayner and the little kid's completed castle. Hopefully ... no white monsters would steal these!

After struggling, Roxas strolled across the beach. He found a seashell - it was huge and white appeared to have come out of a novel he once read at school - and gave it to Olette so she add it to her seashell collection. "Thanks, Roxas!" said Olette. "You think we'll find more shells like this?"

"You knows?" Roxas bent down to the wet sand, inspecting it for more shells. "I'm looking for Thalassa shells. They're supposed to bring good luck to their keepers."

"I didn't know that. I don't even know what Thalassa shells are. Where did you learn that?"

"Uh ... don't know. Picked it up somewhere." From a dream. From a redhaired girl he never met. She liked Sora, and Sora liked her, and she gave him a good - luck charm made of Thalassa shells. In the end the two teenagers found four white Thalassa shells ... one for each of them. Funny that they didn't find any more. And the four shells were just lying there on the sand, waiting to be found. At least, they would make four nice miniature good - luck charms, thought Roxas.

"This way," said Olette. "We'll always remember this day at the beach."

"And each other," added Roxas. "Like Hayner said. That was weird, you know."

"What was weird?"

_We can't be together forever... so we'd better make the time we do have something to remember._

"When Hayner talked about growing up and not being together forever. Does that sound like Hayner to you?" Why would his best friend talk about such subjects? It seemed out - of - character for the wiry - haired blond to do so. Maybe Hayner was just sad about the end of summer? Even when they grow up, they can still be friends, right? Childhood friendship can turn into adult friendship, surely. Also, it's not like anyone was vanishing any time soon ...

Olette nodded and began to respond, but she was interrupted by a beach ball bouncing off Roxas' head. "Ow!"

"Hey!" yelled a nearby Hayner. He was holding up a huge beach ball. "Who's up for some beach volleyball?"

"I am!" cheered Olette.

"Count me in!" chipped in Pence, who put down his camera. The three friends looked at the fourth expectantly. But Roxas had a stupefied expression on his face.

"What ... ?" pondered Roxas.

"What do you mean, what?" asked Hayner.

"We never brought a beach ball to the beach," remembered Roxas, shaking his head. In his mind he clearly recalled what they bought: folding chairs, towels, foam bats, and a picnic basket. That was it. No beach ball. And the vendor didn't sell beach balls, either. Hayner looked as his friend oddly.

"Yes we did!" the wiry - haired boy insisted. "C'om, let's set up court!"

Suddenly, Roxas blacked out. He thought he saw static.

When he came too, no time had passed - or has it? The court was already set up, with him and Hayner on one side, and Olette and Pence on the other side. The game was on! That was werid, thought Roxas as he served. He clearly remembered no beach ball. He clearly remembered no time lost between getting a headache and seeting the court set up. Then again, maybe the beach ball (not inflated then) was hidden in the picnic basket, thus escaping his earlier scrutiny.

Who knows ... still, that was weird. In the end, Roxas' team won, 3 to 1. "I can't help it if I'm not that athletic!" whined Pence.

One by one, everyone else left. Even the blank - faced vendor seller left. The four teenagers had the beach all to themselves for real. Roxas sighed in complete contentment and slouched in his folding chair. He inspected his three friends as they lounged about on towels or in chairs. Today was a good day, he thought. Even though it had some strange bits in it. Hayner's strange speech about blue skies and growing up. The beach itself. The business with the vendor. The sudden memory with the castle. The beach ball out of nowhere. Even the strategic placement of the four Thalassa shells. Oh well, who cares? Still ... it was pretty weird.

"Let's come back tomorrow!" Hayner suggested out of nowhere.

"Hayner, how are we going to get enough munny to go to the beach twice?" Roxas countered.

"We'll have to find work again," Pence agreed. "Somehow, I don't think we'll be so lucky in employment next time."

"Don't worry about the money! I have an idea. Just meet me in front of the station tomorrow," Hayner assured.

"This day wasn't a drag, I'll give you that!" concluded Olette. She got up to comb the beach for shells one last time. Roxas followed her with his gaze as she walked slowly along the seashore, enjoying the feel of cool sand against bare feet. He would have followed her - combing for shells was more fun than he expected - but the shade was so nice and getting up would be such a bother ...

Let's spend the whole night here, he thought happily. We can call our parents to see if it's okay, set up a campfire, and sleep on the towels at night. Who would bother them? It'll save munny and it would be like going to the beach twice, so Hayner would -

Suddenly Olette shrieked. Next to her was a white beast. It grabbed at her with its sharp, pointed hands. More white beasts appeared in a flash. Teleported in, realized Roxas. He couldn't believe it. Rising tension seized Roxas as he shakily got out of his chair. Panic seized his friends as Olette jumped back, Hayner fell off his chair in surprise, and Pence cried "Wah! It's the photo thief from earlier!"

Olette need not have shrieked. Aftering swiping half-heartedly at the girl a few times, the white beast ignored her, swerving away and making a beeline for Roxas. Its comrades followed its example. Roxas cried out as he was gangpiled by at least a dozen of the buggers ...

* * *

WARNING. UNIDENTIFIED DATA.

"I identify them well enough! They're Dusks!" snapped the red-cloaked man at the computer. DiZ hated all Nobodies, and he hated the human-looking Nobodies of Organization XIII most of all. But he hated Dusks almost as much. Organization miscreants! Where was his helper? He switched to obscure computer jargon (that may or may not be accurately represented here):

"Computer! Freeze all other objects. Execute KEYBLADE.EXE on ThalassaShellWhite4!"

Further instructions followed, but they were drowned out by rapid clicking of keys. He liked Roxas not at all, but he needed him (and not in that way). So he'd help him. Just this once. Roxas will have to fight off his servants alone, DiZ thought darkly. No help from him. Not from his imaginary friends.

INSTRUCTIONS ACCEPTED.

* * *

There was a bright light, and the Thalassa shell in his right hand vanished in a circle of 3D numbers. Lo and behold! That strange giant gold-and-silver house key from yesterday was his again. That was weird, the weirdest thing to occur today! Never mind, thought Roxas. He was just glad to be able to fight off these would-be kidnappers, again. 

Just as before, the creatures were no match for an angry Roxas with a giant enchanted key. They fell to his strokes most easily ... but there were mobs of them. Dozens. Hundreds. Maybe thousands. An endless number. The whole beach was quite literally filled with them. Roxas gulped. This was going to be a long fight. An endurance contest, really. If he wasn't careful, they could overwhelm him by sheer numbers.

"Wait," he asked himself. "Where's Hayner? Pence? Olette?" They were no where to be found!

"Hayner! Pence! Olette!" he yelled as he cut through the strange stretchy things. It became a war cry he yelled again and again as he ducked, feinted, slashed, and stabbed. Hayner! Pence! Olette! Where were they! Were they safe? Were they taken? Where here they taken! Those monsters will pay if anything bad happened to them!

"Hayner! Pence! Olette!" Roxas shouted. He funneled his frustration into furious fighting. The white creatures withered under his angry blows as they dissolved into rightful nothingness, as though shocked that he would turn on them. But they continued on. Orders were orders, and they followed their orders to the death.

Roxas struggled on. His friends were missing, and that these ... these _things_ were responsible! Too bad these things were inexhaustible. Roxas was beginning to tire; his right arm ached and the Keyblade felt heavy and foreign in his right hand. Those things just won't stop! Why won't they just stop! He was about to fall from fatigue, when a change happened.

Not a welcome change: a pair of new and scarier monsters now appeared. They were larger, more distinguished-looking. Higher order? One looked like a kite, with paper tails and wings; its covered face reminded Roxas of an assassin. The other reminded Roxas of a samurai, all business with its flared sleeves and swords at its side.

_My liege_, said the samurai, _we must go_.

"What?" gasped Roxas. When did he experience something similar before? Yes ... yesterday, in front of the mansion. He didn't go then, and he wasn't about to go now. "I'm not going anywhere!" Roxas asserted at once, waving the Keyblade in front of him. The other monsters backed away a bit. He wondered if the two in front of him could recognize expressions ... say, the angry snarl he had on his face right now.

_We have our orders_, replied the assassin.

So, they weren't going to let him be. At least the other white monsters were not attacking anymore ... except that Roxas was the only one on the beach. They stood in place, letting the two larger, unique-looking monsters take the lead. Those two must be the leaders of the pack, thought Roxas. Well, they won't take him without a fight! Without warning he struck the assassin - looking one with the Keyblade. Instantly the assassin struck back.

"Yah!" cried Roxas as he attacked again. The fight was on!

It was a tricky fight, the assassin was all sneaky moves and cunning feints. But it fell in the end, to expert sword fighting skills Roxas didn't know he had. The samurai wavered, then struck back with one of its blades when Roxas attack it at once. It too, fell in the end, after a long, hard battle. But it did its duty. Roxas was now too tired to fight further. The Keyblade's point thumped softly on the yellow sand as he sank to his knees.

"No," moaned Roxas, half - conscious, as the remaining creatures rushed in, their pointing hands grabbing at him. "No ... Hayner, Pence, Olette ... "

* * *

DiZ swore long and hard. It was a tricky gamble to create a beach, and they lost. He swore again when he saw a black - coated figure teleport in. An Organization XIII member! Looks like the jig was up. Now Sora will never recover. Without Roxas, it may take years for Sora to regain his memories ... if ever. Then DiZ looked more closely at screens, and sighed in relief. It was not one of Organization XIII. It was one of his. He recognized the Soultaker sword anywhere.

* * *

A sudden impact with the hot sand and a distant sound of whistling metal awakened Roxas. "Huh ... ?"

Looking up (and spitting out some sand), Roxas was greeted with the weirdest sight of all. Some distance from him, fighting the white creatures, was the black - dressed stranger from earlier today. How weird! The stranger managed to attack and kill without tripping over his skirt - like cloak, and with an oddly - shaped sword at that. Roxas idly wondered whether the stranger was sweating in his outfit, moving like that ... and where on earth did he get his sword? At a SF / Fantasy convention?

"Here!" cried the stranger as he tossed an opened something at the downed teenager. A potion ... no, something stronger! Roxas felt his earlier fatigue vanish, replaced with hearty strength. In his hand he still held the Keyblade. Roxas knew what task must be done. He leapt up and joined forces with his savior.

They made a good team. The white creatures put up a poor defense. They all fell in the end. Its duty done, Roxas' Keyblade vanished, transformed back into a Thalassa shell. As the last creature disintegrated with a silent cry, he saw that they were the two remaining denizens on the unmoving beach ... wait, unmoving? Roxas blinked twice, then rubbed his eyes, then blinked once. His eyes weren't fooling.

"No way!" he breathed.

Indeed, Hayner, Pence, and Olette were nowhere to be seen ... but that was not what frightened Roxas. The beach was frozen in time. Waves no longer came and went in regular intervals. Instead, the water was as still as a pond. As unmoving as glass, as though some being from above messed with the physical laws of the universe, and erased the laws on the formation of ocean waves. Roxas looked above. The clouds above weren't moving, either. Normally that was nothing to worry about, but the boy wondered if the sky was as frozen as the ocean. As he stared up, the stranger began to walk away.

"Wait!"

The stranger regarded Roxas, his unturned hood hiding his face.

"Thank you ... for saving me," said Roxas.

The stranger did not respond, or even nod his head. Maybe he was the stiff upper lip type.

"You ... you're the one I met before, right? Back in Twilight Town?" Roxas pressed on.

The stranger did nothing for a moment. Then he reached into his coat ... and pulled out a thin wooden stick. Roxas recognized it.

"It was you! You remembered!" exclaimed Roxas.

The stranger turned around, and began to walk away again.

"No, wait! Come back!" cried Roxas. "Do you know what happened? What were those ... things? Where are my friends - hey! Come back! Please, tell me what happened!" Too late, the stranger vanished into a black, scary portal that appeared out of nowhere. Roxas fell into a foul mood. Curse that ... pickpocket of truth for not telling him what just happened! Hmmm, pickpocket ... that sounded nifty. Roxas swore to call the stranger a pickpocket the next time they met.

"Who are you talking to?"

"Huh?" Suddenly, Roxas felt water surge above his ankles. Waves have returned to the beach. Time had resumed. The boy turned around. There were his friends, safe and sound, lounging in folding chairs or towels as though nothing had happened ... except for Roxas getting up, going to the water's edge, and yelling at some imaginary person.

"Hayner! Pence! Olette!" cried Roxas. "You're okay! Where were you guys?" His three friends regarded the question oddly.

"Um ... here?" said Pence.

"We were here the whole time," said Olette.

"We never moved," said Hayner. "Um ... except for you."

Roxas was unnerved. His friends remembered nothing of the attack. How could someone forget something like that? It was as though some being from above had erased all memory of it form their minds. "There were these creatures ... and this guy," explained the blonde. "He saved me, then he ... vanished." It was no use. How could he explain the impossible to his friends?

"We gotta leave," said Hayner. He looked at his friend with concern. "Before the last train leaves. You okay?"

"Leave? But I thought you wanted to spend the night here."

"I did?" Hayner looked surprised. "Well, I changed my mind. C'om guys, let's pack."

As they prepared their belongings, a furtive thought occurred to Roxas. Maybe, just maybe, the white creatures weren't responsible for the crazy time stop and the sudden vanishing and appearing of his friends. The sand was undisturbed, his friends nonchalant as they packed their things. It was as though the white creatures and the attack ... never really existed. Or was deleted from time.

What about the other strange events of today? Hayner's decision to pack was latest such strange thing to occur. How could his best friend change his mind so soon? That didn't seem like the stubborn but loyal friend with which he grew up. Now that his fun was over, Roxas realized just how strange today was ...

* * *

The being from above (A. K. A. DiZ) was in the throes of an argument with the mysterious figure from before. "I told you generating a beach was a bad idea!" raged the red - cloaked figure. "I told you it would give the enemy a vulnerable entry point, and it did!"

"But I saved him in the end," countered the black - cloaked man.

"Never mind that! We nearly lost Roxas!" insisted DiZ. "If it weren't for your timely intervention, what then?"

Indeed, the other man had no counter against that. Instead, he glanced at the computer screens DiZ had stared at all day. One of them showed the four teenagers boarding the train back to Twilight Town. Roxas was safe and sound ... but was he mentally sound? "Do you think he suspects?" he wondered.

"Of course he suspects now! That beach was a warehouse of glitches!" DiZ glanced at a different screen. "It's a wonder he did not discern the truth and left with the Dusks voluntarily. Still ... I admit, basing the beach off Destiny Islands was a nice touch. That was your idea, wasn't it?"

"We were pressed for time," replied his friend. "It would have taken too long to create a beach from scratch."

"The vendor seller, that was your idea as well. Watermelon for 2 munny a piece! Indeed! A wonder Roxas did not know the truth right there and then!" See, the vendor seller was not based on any person's heart in the real world. He was programmed from scratch; he was, quite literally, an NPC in a computer game. No intelligent mind or authentic heart sat behind his hastily - generated face. Thus his blank face and demeanor.

"Why not? Roxas thought nothing of it."

"The beach ball was a nice diversion," DiZ put in.

"Yes, it was." It was hastily programmed in (On the spot!) when they noted Roxas wondering about the errors hidden in the artificial Twilight Town. The Thalassa shells, too, were inserted in. They bore no glitches, at least. The man thought they made a nice Easter egg for Roxas.

"But about the castle? Neither of us programmed that," noted DiZ.

"Castle Oblivion ... " murmured the other man. The created beach was generated from Sora's memories, and then modified by DiZ into beach form. Maybe the computer system accessed Sora's other memories ... including his lost memories of Castle Oblivion. Never mind that: "Roxas deserved to go the beach."

"If you insist," DiZ sneered. "It won't make a difference in the end. At any rate, Namine must hurry. Now that the enemy knows Roxas is here, they will surely come for him again. We must be prepared!" Then DiZ got busy at the keyboard; he was going to make something to assist Namine. Hopefully, this would speed up Sora's memory restoration. He called up an art application, intending to make... a stained glass window?

The other man was silent as he watched DiZ work. Yes, they must be prepared; more likely than not, Organization XIII will now sent in more Dusks. They may even send in some on their members to fetch Roxas personally. Still, it was worth it. Roxas deserved to enjoy a day at the beach before his time ran out. Let him enjoy what was left of his so - called existence.

"After all ... " he murmured as he looked up at a high - up video screen. "He has three days left."


End file.
